Chronicles of Roivas
by BladedScizor
Summary: Take a brief moment to follow the Gnomish warlock, Roivas, in one of his adventures as he travels the land of Azeroth. One shot. R&R, please.


I had actually written this one-shot about two years ago, so I think my writing ability may have improved slightly since this. However, I figured I might as well post this now that I've decided to make a account.

As I ask with all of my stories, if you review, please try and be slightly constructive about it. If you like it, let me know which parts you liked in particular, and let me know what you didn't like if you didn't like it.

Blood and violence will be found here, so don't read if you don't want to hear about that kind of thing. Of course, if you play WoW, I can't imagine why that would be the case.

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**Chronicles of Roivas**

The night was silent as could be expected in the Alterac Mountains, considering the number of ogres that made their home there. Stars were scattered across the sky, pinpoints of light that shone down on the ever-present layer of snow covering the ground to be reflected off the moisture as a layer of brilliant glitter. It was a beautiful sight, though the primitive residents of the area likely didn't have the mental capacity to appreciate this.

Two individuals currently infiltrating the area didn't appreciate the sight either, but only because they had little interest in such things, especially when they had a task to accomplish. The gnomish warlock known only as Roivas picked his way across the mountainside as his demon companion, a Succubus called Nimtai, trailed behind him. The pair made for a somewhat unusual sight, even though such a combination was hardly uncommon these days.

Roivas, like all gnomes, was quite short; even his lightly-built demon easily had a foot over him. His face was mostly concealed behind a neatly trimmed white beard and red-lensed goggles; and he was wearing a crimson-colored robe that flowed down to his feet. Nimtai, like all Succubae, had the appearance of a scarcely clad woman, excepting the horns on her head, her tail, her wings, and her feet, which were replaced with hooves.

The succubus, out of the many demons the warlock held sway over, was Roivas' favored traveling companion. Of course, despite what most observers may believe, it was not for the feminine charms she constantly flaunted; after all, it was well-known among warlocks that thinking about any demon in a sexual light would only lead to trouble that would be best avoided. Not only were Succubae quite adept at inflicting physical damage, anyone who weren't familiar with that particular breed of demon was unlikely to take them seriously. As a gnome, easily the least feared of all the races in the known world, Roivas could appreciate the advantages this could bring.

As warlock and demon continued their trek, they finally came across a target: a single immense ogre, about ten feet tall with heavily muscled limbs attached to a pudgy-looking torso. He lumbered along a seemingly random path, carrying a gnarled club that was easily as long as Roivas was tall. His face consisted of a protruding forehead, beady eyes, a misshapen nose and an oversized mouth lined with partially rotted teeth, all contorted into a look that combined ferociousness and stupidity, hardly surprising for an ogre.

The diminutive master of dark magic motioned for Nimtai to attack, barely managing to restrain himself from rolling his eyes at the lustful giggle that escaped her lips as she started for the enemy, moving as quickly as her hip swinging strut would allow. She cleared the distance quickly, managing to stay unnoticed as the ogre's back was turned toward her at the time. Knowing what her master wanted her to do, she lashed out with her ever-present whip, both leaving a sizeable wound and angering the ugly brute enough that it would take quite a lot to draw his attention away from the task of beating this pest into the ground.

Meanwhile, Roivas remained at a distance, both monitoring Nimtai's progress and keeping watch for any additional ogres that may intrude. As soon as the ogre's simple mind was obviously focused on his demon, the gnome began his work. From his point of view, warlocks were subtle in battle; rather than rushing in like a mage, spewing bolts of magic at their opponent for the few moments it takes to practically blow them apart, he liked to destroy his enemies slowly, gradually. Painfully.

He made several symbols with his hands, all with the purpose of infecting his victim's body with various forms of shadow magic. Some would drain away its life force, others would tear at its internal organs, disrupting the natural flow that kept its brutish body functioning. The final spell was one that he had to concentrate in order to maintain. However, this little show of shadow magic had the added bonus of transferring the ogre's life energy to Roivas, and the warlock soon felt the fatigue acquired from the mountain climb fading away.

His attention quickly focused back onto the battle between demon and ogre. Nimtai was putting her both her gracefulness and flexibility to good use; though the ogre was obviously powerful, it was also clumsy. Most of its swings went wide, hitting nothing but air, these were always followed by several lashes from the Succubus's whip, resulting in long, ragged wounds across the ogre's body that coaxed out large amounts of its blood. However, a few swipes did manage to catch the nimble demon off-guard, though she avoided catching the full brunt of the creature's blows. Roivas could see that, while still holding her own, Nimtai was not exactly built for withstanding heavy blows from a club roughly the same width as herself, as even the few hits she had taken took their toll on her movement, and it was clear that she wouldn't be able to take much more damage.

However, all concerns over the well-being of the demoness became moot when the ogre, in a sudden fit of brilliance, caught sight of the gnome with shadow magic burning at his fingertips and connected him with the intense pain that couldn't possibly have been inflicted by the demoness' weapon. The enormous creature thundered towards Roivas, clearly bent on flattening the miniature magic worker; and since the warlock was wearing only cloth, as all the work required by warlocks in order to gain their magic as well as learn how to use it left little time for the physical training required to move effectively in heavier armor, it was also clear that it would take little effort on the ogre's part to do so.

Roivas, however, was unfazed by this turn of events, the only indication that he noticed the ogre was now on a deadly collision course with him was a widening of the cold grin he always displayed to an enemy that he knew was already as good as dead. He was secure in the knowledge that, despite the fact that the fool finally figured out that he was the real source of its problems, it was far too late for the towering ogre to do anything about it.

Sure enough, barely a moment after the ogre started after its newly discovered adversary, it began slowing down, the damage done to its body now showing how extensive it really was. Nimtai followed close behind the rampaging ogre, using its change in targets as a chance to attack, and lashed at it in various places, until blood covered everything near the two. Suddenly, Roivas felt a gathering of shadow magic surrounding his body. His grin grew wider at what this meant.

Though most of the spells that Roivas used on his enemies were geared towards a slow death, there were a few attacks he kept in reserve in case he had to do extensive damage quickly. Shadowbolt was the most powerful of these, though it took time to gather the shadow magic required to launch one. However, Roivas practiced a technique only usable by warlocks experienced in his subtle, calculated type of battle. This technique caused residual shadow magic from the many spells inflicted by Roivas to surround him in a cloudy aura. This shadow magic could then be gathered into a Shadowbolt and launched without requiring any time to gather the shadow magic such an attack demanded.

The gnomish warlock's hand shot forward, launching a ball of inky black straight into the immense ogre's chest, the force slowing the creature's momentum until the possibility of it continuing forward until it was on top of Roivas no longer existed. As the shadow magic dissipated, the ogre remained upright, an almost peaceful look crossing its features. This lasted only a moment, until the brutish creature toppled over backwards into the reddened snow, unmoving.

Roivas crossed the now much shorter distance between himself and the ogre, glancing briefly at Nimtai as she rejoined him; the Succubus was visibly exhausted and had suffered various injuries, but Roivas wasn't particularly worried, as demons tended to heal quickly once a battle was over. The practicer of shadow magic stood over his most recent kill for a moment, and then began to search it.

After a short hunt, the warlock swore, then stood up and sighed, obviously disappointed. He looked over at Nimtai and spoke in a voice that showed the valiant effort he put into keeping the usual gnomish squeak out of his voice, but keeping just enough that anyone who was really listening could still tell beyond a doubt that a gnome was talking. "Well, I see no knucklebones on this one, either," stated Roivas. "Looks like more ogres will have to die tonight." Nimtai responded with a grin that was eerily similar to the one spread across the gnome's own face. After a minute of rest, warlock and demon started off once more.


End file.
